Staying or Going?
by Willow Fireheart
Summary: Spike returns to his crypt after trying to rape Buffy.


**Staying or Going?**

Spoilers- S6 Seeing Red  
Disclaimer- I own nothing, not Spike, or Clem, Spike's crypt or the song. Buff stuff belongs to Joss (Big surprise) and the title is a song by The Clash  
Note- This was previously a song fic. As cracked down on song fics, I removed it a while ago. I recently came across it again and was able to alter it so it worked without the lyrics... And all was fine and dandy.  
xxx

Spike paced in front of his bed, hair sticking up at all angles as he continually ran his hands through it. He fixed his eyes on the floor as he paced, trying not to look at the bed. It was a train wreck, the more you think of the damage the more you wanted to see the wreckage.

The red of the cover caught his eye; he and Buffy had spent many times there. They were bittersweet times, for Spike anyway. She would come to him, filled with such misery and loneliness, just wanting to feel something, anything that would take her away from the hell she had been yanked back into. And so he would, make her feel. Sometimes when he was inside her and he'd look into her eyes he could have sworn that he saw love shining back at him.

Spike clenched his fists and ground his teeth. "Bloody tease!"

Spike growled and continued his pacing. He shook his head wildly as images flashed rapidly through his mind, the first time he saw her dancing in the Bronze, teaming up to stop Angelus, fighting her in the sun, following after her with that chip in his head, loving her; trying to rape her. Spike roared, suddenly sickened, and kicked an empty bottle into the wall, watching apathetically as it smashed into a million pieces. He sunk into a crouch, tucking his head between his knees. He just didn't know what to do.

He couldn't stay in Sunnydale, he couldn't face her everyday knowing what he did to her, what he could have done. He could just leave, hop on that stolen bike and leave this damn town choking on his dust. What had this town ever done for him? Ever since he first stepped foot in Sunnydale his unlife had fallen to pieces, his dark princess left him, Angelus made his comeback into their lives, both souled and unsouled, the Slayer had beaten every square inch of his arse, he had a fling with Harmony of all vampires, he had this chip shoved into his brain and he had taken to following the Slayer around like a bloody puppy dog begging for a treat. Spike stood and began to pace again.

Spike cursed as he stopped in his tracks. He had become Angel! But without that pesky curse, the brooding, the caveman brow and with better hair, plus he was more attractive than Angel.

Ignoring the sounds of Clem moving about on the upper level of his crypt, Spike resumed his pacing. He looked around him. He couldn't really leave Sunnydale, could he?

Angel had the Love of his bleedin' Unlife and the wanker turned tail and ran just because he couldn't shag her without losing her. Spike's lip curled. Sanctimonious wanker pilock, with his, 'no it's not right, we couldn't.' Spike snarled, they deserved each other, they bloody did. For all Buffy jerked him around she deserved someone like Angel.

Spike began to pace faster, his anger at himself transforming. His face flickered backwards and forwards as it changed uncontrollably. She lead him on, used him in a way that he hadn't been used since he was turned; since Cecily. Cecily had gotten what she deserved. 'Beneath' her? Cecily thought he was beneath her? Spike smirked. He had showed her; once he was turned he had shown her who was beneath who. She had cried at first, begged him to let her go, screamed at him; but she eventually grew silent. She knew she deserved everything he had done to her, everything and more.

No, what Buffy deserved was to have done to her what she had done to him. She deserved to be helpless and hurt over and over again. She deserved to have her heart ripped out of her body and squeezed in a vice, to have it trampled over and over again. To be given hope and to have it cruelly snatched away.

Spike choked out a strangled laugh. Who was he kidding? He couldn't do that to her. Even though the chip didn't fire when he hurt her, he couldn't do that to that to her. Spike scowled. A few years ago he would have thought nothing of ripping the Slayer's heart out and drinking her blood, but now… It was that bloody chip; it had made him soft.

God, he was damned. He couldn't do anything to hurt Buffy, he loved her and there was no way he could change it. Spike spread his arms and flopped back onto his bed, grunting as he landed on a hard lump. He riffled through the sheets and pulled out a weapon, he'd won it in a card game off a demon new to the continent. Poor bugger had just gotten here from Africa; he didn't stand a chance against Spike.

Spike flipped the large hilted dagger along his fingers, staring at it contemplating. He had gotten the demon drunk, part of the reason Spike was now the owner of an African Ritual Dagger, they were very rare outside of the individual tribes, although there were many fake daggers floating around the black magic market. The drunken demon had spoken of a big arse demon stuck in a cave in Africa, apparently he some connection to some higher power, could do pretty much anything. He was talked of all over Africa for his abilities.

Spike caressed the blade. "Perhaps…"

xxx

end


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